


your blood, like ice

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt No Comfort, Loki (Marvel)-centric, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Loki (Marvel), Poisoning, Sakaar (Marvel), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Whump, this is really just straight whump that's it, what's a plot we don't have one of those here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Loki makes enemies wherever he goes.





	your blood, like ice

**Author's Note:**

> Someone (aka [Lena](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com)) likes to throw whump prompts at me and see what sticks. This one stuck. 
> 
> I'm trying to get better at crossposting things from my Tumblr to AO3, but this means going back through the backlog. If you're curious about what else might be over there that's not over here - I'm [there a lot](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), generally being a mess. You're all lovely.

It took Loki an embarrassingly long time to realize what had happened.

He took it for ordinary drunkenness at first. The blurred vision, the dizziness, even the giddy euphoria - none of it was inconsistent with what he’d experienced of Sakaar’s copious variety of liquors. This one - sweet, light, a little fizzy - was new, and he was quite enjoying it, but it was possible that it was more potent than he’d expected.

It took the ringing in his ears and the vicious cramping of his stomach for Loki to realize that it was entirely possible that this was something else.

He stared at his glass, saliva flooding his mouth, and set it carefully down on a passing tray. Then turned on his heel and walked, as steadily as he could manage, toward the door.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator, focusing on taking deep, even breaths. Another cramp doubled him over and when he straightened the ground tilted ominously.

_Marvelous,_ he thought dizzily, the euphoria still lingering, making all of this seem like a relatively minor inconvenience. He stumbled out of the elevator on his floor, hoping that his staggering gait just looked extraordinarily drunk. He leaned against the door, panting, and almost fell through when he managed to fumble it open. Somehow, he dragged himself to the bathroom, crashing to his knees in front of the toilet, and stuck two fingers down his throat.

He heaved, vomit burning in his nose, but the moment he finished his stomach cramped again, his insides knotting, and he curled into himself with a sharp cry.

_Too late. Whatever they poisoned you with, it’s already in your blood._

_Take it as a compliment. This means you’re dangerous._

It wouldn’t matter if it was a compliment if he wound up dead because of it.

Loki curled up on the floor of the bathroom until the cramp passed. He tried to stand and almost fell; the air was starting to feel smotheringly hot. Lying on the tiles, Loki couldn’t hold back a giggle. Survived the Void, Thanos, the Kursed, his thrice-damned  _sister_ , and he was going to die because of some petty courtier on a planet made of trash.

Somehow that was bitterly fitting. And also hilarious, though that might be the poison.

Loki managed a few shallow breaths before the next cramp twisted his intestines into knots. He curled into a ball, swearing in every language he could think of, riding it out.  _Relax. Let the pain happen, it’s just - a thing happening to you._

He was out of practice.

If he knew what he’d been given - he might be able to counteract it. As it was, though, he didn’t think he’d be able to reach his magic if he tried. His own breathing sounded impossibly loud, and his heart was racing like it would beat its way out of his chest.

_Just - ride it out. You can survive this. You can survive anything._

Loki clenched his teeth through the next cramp and dug his nails into his palms. When it released him, he was left trembling, almost vibrating.

_Stand up. Water. Drink some water._ He got up slowly, fighting through the ache in his muscles, and almost fell again when a wave of dizziness made him sway. He caught himself on the door frame and waited for it to pass; moved slowly over to the bar. He had to stop halfway there, unable to hold back a cry. It felt like a fist squeezing his entrails. Twisting and pulling like they wanted to rearrange his insides.

“Loki,” he heard, and moaned.

“No,” he said, raggedly and to himself. “Don’t do this.”

“Turn, cur,” Thor said. “Turn and see what you’ve done.”

Loki closed his eyes. “No,” he said, though his mouth felt suddenly dry and he could barely croak the word. “You’re not - you are not  _here._ ”

“I should be,” Thor growled. “I should have lived. Not you.”

Loki licked his lips. He couldn’t stop shivering, a cold sweat breaking out over his whole body. “It’s not my fault.”

“Nothing ever is with you, is it?”

Loki balled his hands into fists and bent over, fighting for air. “Stop,” he said. “Stop. Go away.”

“Are you happy now?” Thor demanded. “Now that we’re all dead? Frigga. Odin. Me. Are you happy?”

“Deliriously,” Loki mumbled. He gave up on reaching the water and crumpled to his knees. His breaths felt like sobs and he covered his face with shaking hands.

“Liar,” Thor said. “Snake.”

“I didn’t want this,” Loki cried, twisting around, but there was nothing there. Loki swayed, staring at empty air.

His body rippled and Loki gagged, retching. A dribble of bile was all that came up, but he couldn’t stop heaving, like his body was trying to reject itself, rid itself of everything inside him.

When it finally stopped, Loki crawled a few feet away and curled up on the floor, rocking like it would ease the pain wracking every inch of him. Painfully aware of how alone he was, that there was no one here he could trust, no one who would help. All he could do was endure.

* * *

“Loki, Loki. Oh, my poor boy.”

Loki opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, smeared like a painting in the rain, and his muscles ached. “Amma?” He said faintly.

That wasn’t right.  _The queen is dead._ Four cold words to rip his heart in half.

“Am I dead?”

He could almost feel her stroking his hair. “No. I am.” She sighed. “I died because of you. My cruel and thoughtless son.”

Loki choked, turning his face toward the floor and squeezing his eyes shut. His teeth chattered; he was burning, he couldn’t get warm. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m still dead.” She stood up. “And now…here you are. In a bed of your own making.”

Loki let out a sobbing kind of laugh. “I didn’t - poison  _myself._ ”

“Maybe you should have,” she said, and Loki gasped like she’d stabbed him. Could almost feel the blade through his chest again, the scar throbbing. A fresh wave of pain rolled through him and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

“I killed him,” he said, when he could get enough air to speak, though his voice sounded high and thin, pathetic. “The Kursed. I - saved Thor. I killed him. I avenged you.”

“What use is vengeance,” Frigga said.

“I’m sorry,” he said. She didn’t answer. Loki forced his eyes open, but the room was empty. Of course it was. It had never been anything else.

Hallucinations came with high fever. Muscle spasms. He needed to try to bring his temperature down before his brain cooked in his skull but he didn’t think he could rise; the cramps had metamorphosed into pain like knives. He was going to die. He was going to die, right here, and eventually someone would find his body and throw it out into the trash to be eaten by scavengers.

Loki felt curiously calm at the prospect, which was probably just another sign that something was wrong with him.

Tears cut burning tracks down his cheeks and his heart thundered in his ears.  _How long,_ he thought.  _How long can it possibly take?_

He wondered if the poison was supposed to take this long, or if the poisoner had miscalculated the dose. Or maybe they’d just wanted him to suffer.

He was shivering. Why couldn’t he stop shivering? A frost giant shouldn’t be cold.

* * *

Loki slipped in and out of consciousness, clinging to life. Held back from the edge like he was a ship at anchor, wood groaning at the pull of the rope. He could almost see death, a reef where the waves broke, that he could break himself on.

Blood had started dripping from his nose, and when he threw up again for the pain his bile was threaded with red. He lay in his own sweat and blood and vomit and did not die.

He heard someone kneel next to him and had to laugh. “Go on, then,” he said hoarsely. “Kill me now. I might even thank you for it.”

“Loki,” Thor said, though this time he didn’t sound angry, just a bit aggrieved. “How do you get yourself into these situations?”

“I didn’t want to die,” Loki said, and laughed raggedly. “See how - how well that’s worked out for me.” This time he rolled to his side, though doing so cost him. He cried out, just a little pitch like the mew of a wounded kitten, and blinked at Thor. The words bubbled up: “you should have lived. Not me.” He let out a quiet sound between a sob and a laugh. “Why did you have to come back? You wouldn’t be dead if you had stayed away.”

“You would be,” Thor said. “Hela would have come.”

“Or she would have remained trapped on Midgard,” Loki said, but he didn’t convince himself. There were other things he could say.  _I’m sorry,_ or,  _I shouldn’t have,_ or,  _I did you a favor, don’t you see that, Odin would have imprisoned you but I let you go-_

All pointless now. Though maybe he should still offer. Thor’s ghost deserved to be at rest. Not stranded here on this wasteland of a planet.

“I can’t believe I am going to die here,” Loki said, and sort of laughed. “On the other hand - on the other hand, maybe it’s sort of fitting.”

Thor cocked his head. Loki smiled at him. “Because I am - a waste of space?” Thor’s expression didn’t change, and Loki said, “and this planet is made of waste, and also…”

He laughed again, dizzily, deliriously. “You need water,” Thor said.

“Yes,” Loki said. “Almost certainly.” His head lolled to the side. He felt - light. Like he was coming untethered.

His eyes drifted closed. He could almost feel Thor pushing his hair back, tucking it behind his ear.

“Will Odin come?” He mumbled. “Will he bid me farewell, before I cross over?”

He didn’t hear Thor answer. Probably because Thor didn’t, because Thor wasn’t real, Thor was dead, and Loki was going to follow him as he’d always followed Thor before.

* * *

He floated back into consciousness freezing cold and mercilessly clear-headed. Shaky and weak, but not feverish, not delirious, and the ache in his muscles just felt like the result of - well. Hours of spasms. His mouth tasted of copper, his tongue thick and heavy.

_So you survived,_ Loki thought dully. His heart was beating at a normal pace again.  _Once again, you pass through the fire unburnt._

He dragged himself to his feet and wobbled to the bar, where he gulped a full pitcher of water. It sloshed uneasily in his stomach, but it stayed down.

He stood there, leaning on the bar, a long time.

Tonight, he would have to go back. Stand tall, and laugh, and play the game as flawlessly as he ever had. He would watch for whoever looked disappointed, and see to it they found a sudden and painful end. He knew this dance and he could do it well.

But for a moment, he stood alone, too aware of the ghosts at his back.


End file.
